


Canoodling & Conspiracies Oh My!

by raktajinos



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Growing Old Together, Happy, New Caprica, Recreational Drug Use, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:10:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raktajinos/pseuds/raktajinos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“So you, my best friend, and my daughter have all been canoodling to get me stoned. If I was a more curious man I’d suspect conspiracy."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Canoodling & Conspiracies Oh My!

**Author's Note:**

> A quick little gift for my friend defyingnormalcy for the Valentine's Day miniexchange over at survival instinct on LJ. 
> 
> Hope you like it! Been in a BSG inspiration funk lately but this challenge was just what I needed!

“Laura?” he said quietly into the tent, his eyes trying to find her in the darkness. 

“Like clockwork Bill, always before the crack of dawn,” she teased from somewhere within the tent. He heard the rustling of fabric and the clink of the lamp before it turned on, illuminating the small space in a soft light. 

He gave a gruff smile in return; after fifty some-odd years in the military, he was unlikely to change. Can’t teach an old dog new tricks and all that; he was a creature of habit. 

“You want to warm up the seat for me? I’ll be right out,” she said, dotting about in the kitchen area. 

He gave a quick nod and turned back around, leaving the tend and closing the flap behind him. He walked the short distance to the west side of her ‘apartment’ and settled himself on the makeshift couch they’d built there. Laura loved watching the sunrise and had mentioned to him on one of his visits that one of the things she’d been hoping New Caprica could give her was that. Living on board a ship for so long, she’d grown to miss it. So he’d built her this spot right behind her tent, carving most of the bench from a type of tree that grew nearby and spare parts from the fleet. It wasn’t the prettiest thing he’d ever built, but she loved it. 

She’d insisted that he join her that first morning to watch the sunrise and then the habit just started from there; whenever he was able, he would join her for coffee and sunshine. It was easier when he stayed the night, not having to get up any earlier, but with their lives the way they were, that wasn’t feasible all the time. 

“It’s going to be a gorgeous day,” she said, startling him, coming around the corner. In her hands she carried two steaming cups of what passed for coffee here on New Caprica, handing him one before taking a seat next to him. 

“Good day for the festival,” he added, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. 

She gave a hum in reply, letting her head rest on his shoulder. 

Then they sat there, pressed close together, drinking their coffee and watching the sunrise. And like every time they did this, Bill thought that this was how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be retired, enjoying his days with the woman he loved. He let his mind wander, imagining how his life should be, how _their_ lives should be. He’d build her that cabin she wanted, deep in the woods with a brooke nearby and then the most gorgeous veranda loveseat he could carve to match. With soft wood grooves, intricate detail, an orange-oil wood gloss; putting everything into it he could to say he loved her. 

It was a fantasy, and that’s really all it would ever be. He loved her, that was true, but despite all their dreaming and all the hopes of his people, this _New Caprica_ wasn’t going to work. They were hiding, and they couldn’t hide forever. The cylons would find them and their lives would resume; him as fleet leader and her as President. But for now, during these mornings, he could pretend. Pretend they were married, retired and living a life without the pressures of responsibility. 

“I got you something,” she said suddenly. 

“Oh?” 

She sat up and rustled her hands around inside the pockets of her huge sweater, finally pulling out a soft black cloth bag. She grinned and handed it to him. 

He took the bag and loosened the tie, curious as to what could possibly be inside. Looking in, he let out a laugh as he recognized what it was. 

“Seriously? Where did you find this?”

“I have my sources. I’m a _very_ powerful lady,” she teased. 

He pulled out the small plastic bag inside the bigger bag, rolling the dried leaves around in his palm. 

“I thought maybe we could do it later,” she hedged. 

He laughed again, “sure. Though its been at least a decade since I’ve done it,”

“I know,” she grinned, relaxing against him. 

“Who has been spilling my secrets?”

“I cannot reveal my sources,” 

“Saul then,” 

“I can neither confirm nor deny,”

“Politician,” he teased. “Where’d you get it anyways? Wait do I want to know?”

“I am pretty good friends with your surrogate daughter….”

“So you, my best friend, and my daughter have all been canoodling to get me stoned. If I was a more curious man I’d suspect conspiracy.”

She grinned, trying to look innocent. “Guilty as charged.” 

She leaning forward and pressing her lips against his, pulling him down into a kiss.


End file.
